[alecst]

Our anonymous Dave has a tremendous excess of wealth that far exceeds his needs and his ability or desire to spend it. He asked "Was I wrong in not telling anyone about my winnings?"

My response was to that. Maybe sharing it, rather than concealing it, might actually make his life a little better (there is a soft joy in giving), and bring him closer to the needs of people around him.

I don't see why you think I crossed a line by giving my opinion. The man is asking for opinions!

[hinkley]

What if Dave gets aggressive ALS and there is stem cell research that looks promising, but basically he has to help fund research? Does Dave need that now? Can he ask for it back?

I worked with people who tried to retire early but got embezzled. They knew someone whose wife got diagnosed with cancer months after retirement and that money just went poof. You can’t see the future, you don’t know.

What you know is that people overplan for emergencies and miss out on positive experiences because if it. These are not the same thing.

[philwelch]

> My response was to that. Maybe sharing it, rather than concealing it, might actually make his life a little better (there is a soft joy in giving), and bring him closer to the needs of people around him.

It would sure be nice to think that. But that's not how the world works. From the link I posted above, and very abridged:

> Jack Whittaker, a Johnny Cash attired, West Virginia native, is the poster boy for the dangers of a lump sum award. In 2002 Mr. Whittaker (55 years old at the time) won what was, also at the time, the largest single award jackpot in U.S. history. $315 million. At the time, he planned to live as if nothing had changed, or so he said. He was remarkably modest and decent before the jackpot, and his ship sure came in, right? Wrong.

> Mr. Whittaker became the subject of a number of personal challenges, escalating into personal tragedies, complicated by a number of legal troubles.

...

> Whittaker quickly became the subject of a number of financial stalkers, who would lurk at his regular breakfast hideout and accost him with suggestions for how to spend his money. They were unemployed. No, an interview tomorrow morning wasn't good enough. They needed cash NOW. Perhaps they had a sure-fire business plan. Their daughter had cancer. A niece needed dialysis. Needless to say, Whittaker stopped going to his breakfast haunt. Eventually, they began ringing his doorbell. Sometimes in the early morning. Before long he was paying off-duty deputies to protect his family. He was accused of being heartless. Cold. Stingy.

> Letters poured in. Children with cancer. Diabetes. MS. You name it. He hired three people to sort the mail. A detective to filter out the false claims and the con men (and women) was retained.

...

> Whittaker's car was twice broken into, by trusted acquaintances who watched him leave large amounts of cash in it. $500,000 and $200,000 were stolen in two separate instances. The thieves spiked Whittaker's drink with prescription drugs in the first instance. The second incident was the handiwork of his granddaughter's friends, who had been probing the girl for details on Whittaker's cash for weeks.

...

> Whittaker invested quite a bit in his own businesses, tripled the number of people his businesses employed (making him one of the larger employers in the area) and eventually had given away $14 million to charity through a foundation he set up for the purpose. This is, of course, what you are "supposed" to do. Set up a foundation. Be careful about your charity giving. It made no difference in the end.

...

> Today Whittaker is badly in debt, and bankruptcy looms large in his future.